


Burden

by biswholocked



Series: JWP 2015 [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aftermath of character death, Comfort/Angst, Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biswholocked/pseuds/biswholocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I were allowed to search, I should nowhere find her face, her voice, her touch. She died. She is dead."</p><p>Lestrade knows grief. He also knows John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burden

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day ten of JWP. The prompt was "What’s All This Then? Use the POV of one or more of the police for today's entry". 
> 
> This was intended to be a follow-up to [Intentions](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4305138), but I suppose it could also be read as a stand alone (though it may not make as much sense).

“John,” Lestrade says, gently. The waiting room lights are bright but John, Lestrade notices, simply looks washed-out under their glow, grey and brittle. He lightly settles a hand on John’s shoulder; John flinches under the contact, but looks up.

The sight makes Lestrade’s breath catch. There’s a look in peoples’ eyes that blooms when they find themselves responsible; it’s a combination of guilt and marrow-deep remorse, and Lestrade has seen it too many times in thirty years. (Has, now, seen it two too many times, in John Watson’s eyes.)

Lestrade sits beside him and keeps his hand on John’s shoulder. His knee aches and his eyes are scratchy with exhaustion, but despite the unforgiving plastic of the chair seat his discomfort fades as they sit together, breathing in tandem.

“I don’t understand,” John says, voice rough and words tumbling over one another, “why this keeps happening.”

“John-”

“I shouldn’t have--” John cuts himself off, restarts. “I should have tried. To save both of them.” His voice cracks and Lestrade squeezes John’s shoulder, trying to offer a modicum of comfort.

 _You know that isn’t how it works_ , he doesn’t say, but John hears it anyway, shakes his head; it’s acceptance and denial all in one, the two irrevocably tied together by grief.

Silence drapes over them once more, and Lestrade settles in for the long haul; it’ll be hours until Sherlock’s out of surgery, and Lestrade has been around long enough (had been around last time) to know John shouldn’t be alone.

John shifts closer to him, seeking confirmation. _You’ll stay?_

Lestrade squeezes John’s shoulder again, a bit longer this time.

 _Yes_.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/ con crit always welcome! I was struggling with what to write for this prompt, before the idea of a companion piece hit me.


End file.
